Apologies
by ScarletBlackRoses
Summary: Slight Spoilers for Skyfall. Would they ever apologise to each other? Maybe...in a roundabout way.


I loved this scene between M and Bond...I just wanted to add to it a bit!

Apologies.

"Where the hell have you been?" _Angry with a hint of relief._

"Enjoying death. 007 reporting for duty" _Facetious with a hint of pissed off_.

"Run out of whiskey, did they?" _Now that was just bitchy._

"In case it escaped your notice, I was shot. Twice. And fell off a train. That was moving. Across a very high bridge. Into a fast-flowing river. Did I mention the waterfall? And what was it you said? Take the bloody shot?" _When all else fails there's always sarcasm._

"Don't think you're getting an apology"

"You should have trusted me to finish the job"

"You should have called"

So here they were again.

At a standoff in her living room - a bottle of fine scotch and a lot of anger between them.

Not quite friends, more than boss and employee. That was their relationship.

Maybe that was their problem. Both too stubborn to admit they'd made mistakes. Too proud to apologise.

She observed him from across the room. He looked, quite frankly, like shit. Unshaven, filthy, exhausted and, judging from her half empty bottle of scotch, on his way to an epic hangover.

Despite her anger at his disappearance, she couldn't stop the wave of relief at seeing him. The moment the words "Take the bloody shot" had left her lips, she wanted to take them back but there was too much at stake. Lose one agent, save a dozen. It wasn't the first time she had to make that decision and she was fairly sure it wouldn't be the last but, oh, how the words "Agent down" had hurt.

She moved towards the drinks table and poured herself a double. Bond took the opportunity to study her. Away from the cover of her position and the poker face she maintained, he could see the real M. She looked exhausted, like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Technically, he supposed it was. She'd lost agents in the field, half of MI6 had been blown up and they still hadn't retrieved the disc or got any closer to discovering who had taken it. He'd bet his Aston Martin that Westminster were coming down on her like ton of bricks.

She turned towards him, drink in hand.

"Why did you come back?"

Bond shrugged "I saw the explosion on the news. Figured it was a sign"

He would never admit that he was terrified she had been hurt. He saw the footage of HQ on CNN. He had realised that the explosion would have ripped apart her office and he had felt the icy hand of fear squeeze his heart. He had lost everyone he had ever cared about, with two exceptions - his father's old game keeper, Kincade and M. He had known in that second that it was time to return, he needed to see that she was ok.

"You need a shower, you look like shit" she observed.

She looked him up and down. "And a change of clothes. You'll need to be reassessed before I can allow you back into the field "

"I'll go home...shower, change..."

"We sold your apartment. Boxed up your things and put them into storage"

He stared at her in disbelief.

"Standard protocol for an unmarried agent with no next of kin...you really should have called"

He sighed.

"Well, I'll...find a hotel"

"Well, you're bloody well not staying here"

They stared at each other across the room. Bond sighed and looked down at his glass, swirling the amber liquid round. He sighed again and downed the remainder. He started to say that he would see her tomorrow but when he looked up, she had gone. All he could see was his reflection in the glass of a photo frame.

She was right, he did look like shit. He grimaced and made his way towards the door.

She turned into the room just as he reached it; she started slightly, not expecting him to have moved.

She shoved a blanket, pillow and towel at him.

"You can take the couch. The shower is the first door on the left. Don't use all the hot water."

She turned abruptly and made her way upstairs.

He couldn't stop the smile that made its way across his face. This was the nearest he'd get to an "I'm sorry I got you shot" He could live with that, sometimes actions spoke louder than words.

"Goodnight Ma'am"

She paused at the top of the stairs.

"Goodnight 007...and don't ever break into my house again" she said half-heartedly for forms sake

"Yes ma'am" he all but saluted, knowing as well as she did that he didn't mean it.


End file.
